


The Weapon

by FluffiestMarshmallow



Series: A Love In Ruins [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Blood and Gore, Canon divergent from Battle of Hogwarts, Dark Draco, Death Eaters, Draco doesn’t care about anything but Hermione for some reason, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Harry Potter is Dead, Hermione is a badass, Magical Dueling, Mentions of Rape, Possessive Draco, Protective Draco, Snatchers, Violence, elements of abuse, graphic depictions of death, probably not what you’re expecting, teeeeeny bit of fluff, truck loads of angst, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22388662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffiestMarshmallow/pseuds/FluffiestMarshmallow
Summary: Three years have passed since Voldemort won the battle of Hogwarts. Many have died and the Resistance has all but fallen. But word is spreading and secrets don’t stay secrets forever: Hermione knows that Voldemort is hiding a weapon in the midst of an ancient forest.In a desperate effort to avenge her friends and give hope to the Resistance’s dying cause, she has vowed to discover and retrieve this weapon—whatever it may be and whatever it may take.But things don’t always go to plan...
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: A Love In Ruins [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611517
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59





	The Weapon

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K Rowling maintains all rights over any recognisable content within this fanwork. This was written solely for creative purposes. 
> 
> Helloooo! 
> 
> I’ve been debating whether or not to post this as it’s rather—er, well—different.But I wrote it for fun and it’s not plot-centric so I left it as is (detailed descriptions and all).
> 
> I have a few random chapters—in no particular order—for this story. And I’m going to be posting them in the form of two-shots over the next few weeks. 
> 
> But for now, this is smack-dab in the middle of the chaos. (Sorry, not sorry) :D

She was running, scrambling and climbing over the uneven ground as fast as she could when she heard their foul shouts echoing through the forest. Stiffening, Hermione became as still as the trees surrounding her.

They were taunting her.

They wanted her to know that they could see her.

Remembering what had been done to the last resistance member they found, a shiver of fear went down her spine. She couldn't let them catch her. Though, if they did, it would be entirely her fault.

She had been naïve, reckless even.

During her planning she had scouted the forest’s borders repeatedly, and, although there had been no patrols surrounding the western region during those weeks, today had proven to be an anomaly. She had barely reached the cover of the tree-line when a loud, crackling curse rushed past her, almost grazing her arm.

She should have planned for this. She should have taken every precaution. But she had been too sure of herself. Or, perhaps, just too desperate...

Eyeing the depths of forest with trepidation, she leant her head back against the tree, her hand holding her wand falling to her side in resignation.

She had been running for quite some time and the sparse tree-line had steadily grown taller and thicker the further she went, giving no clue as to where she was going. 

Squinting, she attempted to assess her surroundings, only to realise just how deep within the forest she had ventured already. Even the air was cooler here: the chill of the night still lingering above the damp ground, blanketed by the unrelenting canopy above. Save for the slanting rays of sunlight breaking through the thick boughs of the trees, illuminating the forest with scattered pillars of light, she couldn't see much.

This forest was old—ancient even.

New life had long since bloomed and peaked within these parts, constructing expansive, densely packed boughs which shrouded their depths in an eerie darkness. But the boughs were not alone in their expanse. Twisted roots of the giant, knarred trees webbed across the forest floor, each growth and curve forming a pattern borne from hundreds of years.

In another life, she may have marvelled at such a mystical sight, but navigating through the forest was proving exceedingly difficult.

Indeed, her badly scraped knees and hands bore the evidence of her many encounters with the elaborate root system alone. There were no paths for her to follow—man-made or otherwise. The area were uninhabited and had been for many years. Not even a single creature stirred. She was running blindly, stumbling through the trees towards where she could only guess the centre of the forest was.

Suppressing the rattled breaths which still tore at her lungs, a renewed trickle of fear crept across her skin as the strange quietness of the moment slowly dawned on her.

Listening for any sound of her pursuers, her fingers flexed around her wand in anticipation. But they had ceased their shouting and she had no longer had any idea where they were.

Biting back a growl of frustration, her lips pressing into a line, she stole a glance around the tree she was leaning against. Rarely had she had felt so anxious and discomposed over the years, but with each second that passed, the uncomfortable truth of the situation was becoming blatantly clear.

They were going to catch her.

Pausing her thoughts for a moment, her gaze slid warily to the west, watching the area she had just emerged from.

Nothing.

_Where are they?_

There was wind, and leaves rustling, and branches creaking, and... something else.

She didn’t know how she had missed it before, but it was definitely them. She could hear them moving again and they were decidedly close. 

Too close.

The distinct sounds of their heavy boots stomping against the ground were growing louder with every frantic jolt of her heart. Their shouts had sounded distant enough, though, whether it was an echoing trick of the forest or they had simply picked up on her trail, they were much nearer than she had originally thought.

Swearing under her breath, Hermione tightened her grip on her wand and eased herself behind a larger, upturned tree, preparing to defend herself. It would be folly to keep running until she knew what she was up against. Already, she was tiring too quickly and she would need her strength to fight if it came down to it—and she was certain that it would.

Though, it wouldn't be so bad to die here, would it? She wouldn’t find a greater purpose for her life than giving her all to the Resistance. And she wouldn't be the first to have done so.

She had seen it many times.

Her friends—and countless other Resistance members—had died all around her. One by one, until the Resistance was little more than a flicker of hope, barely making a difference anymore. 

At first, fuelled by Harry's death, their numbers were strong and their spirits stronger. Then, as time passed and more Resistance members fell, the Resistance scrambled—hiding across the country, fewer and fewer of them regrouping when needed.

Destroying the weapon was her last hope.

Her last mission, too. 

At length, harsh voices carried through the wind, snapping her attention in their direction. These wizards were alarmingly confident and careless in their pursuit. Undoubtedly, they saw her as easy prey. Chasing her, hunting her, it was nothing more than a game. 

But she would not let it be that easy. 

Crouched within the cover of the shadows, her wand at the ready, Hermione waited for them to emerge. Pressing herself lower against the upturned tree, she steeled herself as the sound of boots crunching over dead leaves sounded from merely a few feet away.

"Hmm. Where'd she go?"

"Makes no matter, does it?" A second, deeper voice said. "I bet she's tired out. Nothing but skin and bones, this one."

"She's hiding. Probably disillusioned herself if she has half a mind to her." The first voice again. "Just you wait. She'll make a run for it."

A rough grunt in reply was all she heard from the other wizard.

There were only two of them _,_ she noted _,_ biting at the swell of her lip as she tried to assess the situation. She couldn't see them, but she could hear them. Though, she was certain there had heard three different voices shouting earlier.

Either way, she was still outnumbered. 

Not only was her cover minimal, but she was bound to be discovered soon. Gripped with a resolve that scarcely overshadowed her fear, she sat in a heightened state of awareness, flinching at the sound of every crunching leaf or snap of a fallen branch, waiting for them to sight her. She could even hear their ragged breathing whenever they passed dangerously close to where she hid.

Being forced to crouch down further behind the upturned tree every time they drew nearer, she was unable to keep an eye on the area behind her for those few, valuable seconds. 

She was only prolonging the inevitable.

Though, to be fair, she had gained a slight advantage from her hidden position. She knew what—and who—she was up against now. Hermione had only been able to glimpse them for a brief moment, but she had seen them clear enough.

Two Snatchers were presently stalking around the trees to her left, their wands drawn as they carelessly searched the area. 

Snatchers were nowhere near the cruelty of Death Eaters, but it was well known that, after the war, the select few who had managed to remain within Voldemort's ranks were vile and malicious specimens who took great pleasure in tormenting their victims.

Thus, Hermione was glad that they remained in her periphery—for now, at least. Still, it chilled her blood to know that they were so close. It wouldn't be long until they encircled the area behind her, and time was running out.

She couldn’t wait. 

The one Snatcher had been correct in his assumption, she needed to make a run for it. However, with any luck—and a fair bit of skill—they would neither hear nor see her and she would be able to continue without incident, putting enough distance between them before they realised she was gone. 

Peering around the fallen tree, her wrist moved in as small a movement as possible as she pointed her wand to the right, wordlessly casting a charm. At once, a flock of small, brown birds emerged from the end of her wand, and, in the same breath, she sent them jostling through the trees farthest away from her.

"What was that?"

Angling his head to the side, the Snatcher with the deeper voice looked around curiously. "Eh, you think she coulda slipped past us?"

She watched with bated breath as they shared an uncertain look between them. Then, to her relief, the other Snatcher started towards where the birds had flown to. Without thought, lest she hesitate, Hermione lurched to her feet, sprinting through the forest once more whilst her pursuers eyes were turned elsewhere.

Sadly, her efforts to distract them had been for naught.

As she ran, an angry shout sounded behind her and a curse came hurtling towards her back seconds later.

_Damn these Snatchers!_

Hurling herself behind another tree, she only narrowly avoided the curse. They had sighted her far quicker than she had expected. Though, surprisingly, it seemed that only one of them had followed her.

 _I have you now_ , the pointed thought cut through her sinisterly. Refusing to cower, she stepped out from behind the tree. Whirling her wand sharply, she aimed directly for the Snatcher barrelling towards her.

_“Impello!“_

Her spell impacted with the Snatcher's chest in a bright propulsion of light. And, in a single moment, the strength of her magic violently hurled him through the air before slamming him into one of the surrounding trees with a loud, sickening crunch of shattering bones.

Hermione could only scowl as his body fell limply to the floor in an unnaturally twisted heap. _A swift death,_ she acknowledged, _and a kinder fate than he deserved._

Hearing the other wizard's enraged cries, Hermione turned and fled, hastening over the mangled roots as diligently as possible. In all the confusion, she had glimpsed a peculiar stretch of sunlight ahead of her that was growing in brightness as she hurried toward it.

_Maybe, this is what I'm looking for?_

She was deep within the forest and yet, the air was warming and the ground seemed less treacherous as she continued.

_This had to be it._

Bursting through the tightly packed trees and into the direct sunlight, she almost tripped over her feet in her urgency to stop. Breathless once more, her eyes frantically scanned the immediate area, the back of her hand swiping at the sweat threatening to fall from her brow.

shit. 

There was nothing. Nothing but fallen leaves and patches of weeds.

It was only a clearing.

Lost and confused, the sound of the wind coursing through the trees roared in her ears. The many swishing leaves were mocking her, laughing at her as they bore witness to her defeated expression. Standing within the empty clearing, gripped by disappointment, she almost forgot herself in her despair before a gruff chortle soon joined the laughter of the trees.

Backing away slowly, her eyes widened as the dark silhouette of a wizard appeared from the depths of the shadows.

It was the Snatcher who had first spoken: the one who had fallen for her trick with the birds. He was tall and gangly, with dark greasy hair and black beady eyes. His wand, which was shaped more like a thorn, was pointed directly at her.

But she had fooled him already and the sooner she caught him off guard again, the sooner she could find the weapon and get the hell out of this damn forest. 

In a blink, a blinding flash of blue light shot out from the end of her wand, soaring across the small clearing towards the Snatcher.

Almost too easily, he deflected her spell. "You think you can take me down with a _Stupefy_?" He leered.

The wizard’s seamless reaction troubled her. Not only had he deflected her spell, but he had recognised it too. This was no ordinary, dumb Snatcher.

 _The weapon,_ she reminded herself _. I'm wasting time._

Narrowing her eyes, Hermione shot another spell across the clearing: the pulsing wave of magic hurtling straight for the arrogant grin on his face. But the Snatcher merely waved his hand idly in front of him, dissipating the burst of magic before it could reach him.

_What the hell?_

"This is going to be too easy,” he tittered, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he moved his wand lazily between his fingers. “Try not to look so tense.” 

He was taunting her. 

Hermione's nose twitched with irritation. She was done playing games. Though, before she could throw another spell at him, a movement at the edge of the clearing caught the corner of her eye. Stepping out from beneath the treeline, another Snatcher emerged.

There _were_ three of them. 

Unlike the other wizard, this Snatcher was built shorter with strong, burly limbs. With his dirt caked skin and tattered robes, he looked as if he hadn't bathed for weeks, either.

"What have ye' got 'ere?" He asked the dark-haired Snatcher, his gaze fixed solely on Hermione.

"This bint tripped the boundary wards. I've been tracking her all the way from the fucking western border." The words snarled from within his throat as he added. "She took down Garth already."

"Did she now?" The burly Snatcher's regard was so heavy, so severe, that she could almost feel it boring right through her as he spoke. "Hand over yer wand lass, an' we might go easy on ye."

The dark-haired Snatcher scoffed. "Speak for yourself. I've been posted out here for weeks. And a pretty little thing like her..." His yellowed teeth curved into a snide grin as he appraised her. "Well, I could use a little _fun_."

Hermione sucked in a shallow breath as she backed further away from them, the thick base of the tree behind her offering a small relief to her situation. She wouldn't have to watch her back.

Not only was she outnumbered again, but never before had she been looked at with such—such _hunger_.

"Pity, I had hoped you would run." The dark-haired Snatcher goaded, his eyes flashing with excitement. "I do love a good chase."

Hermione barely had time to raise her wand as a static, purple hex came rushing through the air towards her.

Swirling her wrist in a quick, circular motion, a pulsing white shield expanded from the tip of her wand, forming a protective wall of magic in front of her.

The purple hex impacted loudly with her shield, causing her to stumble backwards from the sheer force of the collision. For a moment, the two spells continued to crackle viciously against one another. Then, whilst fighting to maintain a steady grip on her wand, she watched as her shield flickered a violent shade of purple before fading back to white, absorbing the hex.

Lowering her wand, she stared at the two wizards across from her in surprise. That hex had been powerful.

"The lass canna even hold a shield steady!" The burlier wizard barked out a guttural laugh. "Give up! Ye canna’ win!"

Bristling at his words, Hermione shot her own hex at him to see how he would react. Though, he didn't even raise his wand as he casually sidestepped her hex with another guttural laugh.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed as she studied his response. His first instinct had been to use his body, not his wand. Most skilled duelists wouldn’t think to rely on physical strength when dodging spells. Magic was too unpredictable. 

The first Snatcher, upon noticing the curious tilt of her head, promptly shot another crackling hex towards her, cutting her musings short.

But Hermione had been ready.

Flicking her wand in an intricate pattern, a smoky haze of magic soon clouded the hex's trajectory. Puzzled, they stared at her spell, waiting to see what would happen. Though, it wasn't long before their laughter grew loud again when the hex soared straight through her smokey shield, seemingly unaffected.

 _Fools_ _._

She remained still, watching as the amusement quickly melted from their faces when the hex continued straight through her too, disappearing amongst the trees as if it had been no more than a refraction of light. 

Both wizards immediately pointed their wands at her. Their once confident expressions now hardened with suspicion.

"Why are you here? You’re part of that scummy little Resistance, aren't you?"

"Aye, she is." The burly Snatcher's lip curled in a snarl. "I canna’ imagine why a wee lass would have any other reason te learn them fancy spells."

"She's nothing we can't handle."

Cracking his neck, the burly Snatcher's arrogant smile spread across his face once more, marking his agreement.

Hermione's mind was screaming at her to run, to disapparate, to get as far away from this duel as possible. She barely had the strength to fight and these wizards were far better trained than any other Snatchers she had run into before.

She needed to get the weapon. 

The reminder of why she was here challenged her every instinct _._

Pushing back her fear, Hermione faced the two wizards with an angry scowl. Glaring at them, she carefully weighed her chances, allowing the voice she had blocked out for so long to resonant clear within her mind.

_'Utilise your surroundings...'_

" _Bombarda maxima!_ " She yelled.

The Snatchers were flung forcefully apart as the ground exploded between them. With their bodies splayed awkwardly on either side of the clearing, they scarcely managed to erect shields as the mass of dirt and rocks that had been propelled into the air from the explosion came thundering back down onto them.

_“Ferio!“_

Her bright, yellow beam of magic aimed straight for the larger Snatcher still shielding himself from the falling debris. Noticing her spell, he moved at the last minute, throwing his body from her magic's path with a loud grunt before springing to his feet with more agility than she had thought him capable of.

"Yer a feisty un aren't ye?" He cleared his throat, spitting a glob of dirt mixed with blood onto the newly upturned ground. " _Vescor_!"

Her muscles froze in shock at the sight of the deadly, orange curse moving in a pulsing wave towards her. It was extremely dark magic, designed to devour the victim's flesh in the most abhorrent manner. One would fare better being dunked into a pit of acid.

_“Sphearidium!“_

A thick shield formed around her like an orb, encasing her completely against the incoming dark curse. The Vescor curse reacted like a fluid upon contact: the putrid smell of the curse—of burning flesh—assaulting her senses as the orange wave wrapped around her protective orb, singeing the edges as it sought an opening in her encasing magic.   
  
For what seemed an endless moment, her shield flickered ominously before slowly absorbing the curse. 

Dropping the protective charm at once, her breath left her in shallow pants, her body weary from the exertion of maintaining such a charm.

"You know your spells, girl." The dark-haired Snatcher commented, standing to the side of the clearing, watching her intently. He could see she was growing weary. "Try not to damage her too much, Balloch. I'm letting you have your fun, so you better let me have mine."

The burly Snatcher grunted in reply, his wand still trained on her. As he began to move his wrist in a jagged motion, beginning his next attack, Hermione felt the colour drain from her face. The curse he was trying to conjure was just as dark as the one before.

At this rate, she wouldn’t last much longer. 

Harnessing her rage, she raised her own wand out before her, throwing a simple Binding Spell across the clearing. As she had expected, he easily deflected her spell, however, the action had interrupted his own attack.

Now was her chance. 

She barely had any strength left and her throat was painfully dry, but she kept at. Firing her wand in quick procession, she shot simple hex after simple hex at him: the basic wand movements and low effort enabling her to keep him occupied with blocking her every spell.

_“Reducto!“_

Hermione hurtled the Blasting Spell towards him. The flash of red light crackled through the air, stronger than her previous hexes. As he had done repeatedly, the Snatcher merely sidestepped the spell, not even bothering to raise a shield as he continued to laugh mockingly.

But it didn't matter. Hermione had been expecting this.

She had been watching. Learning. As soon as the Blasting Spell left her wand, she raised her other hand out before her. Focusing her magic, she attempted to put as much power behind the wandless movement as possible.

_“Sectemsempra!”_

Her bare hand moved in a sharp, diagonal motion, her fingers pointing towards the ground by the time the harrowing curse had formed before her. Flicking her wrist forward, Hermione watched her curse shooting directly for the empty space to the left of the Snatcher—the space he seemed to favour when sidestepping her spells.

The Snatcher barely had time to widen his eyes as he moved away from the Blasting Spell and stepped directly into the trajectory of the cutting curse.

Her plan had worked.

Almost in slow motion, his heavy-set body fell to the ground with an echoing thud as he dug his heels into the dirt, arching and shaking against the pain. Wand still raised, she held her breath as his piercing screams soon became gurgled. Dark red patches had begun spreading across his robes: the faded, grey material clinging to his body, soaked with his own blood.

The blood continued to pool around him, gushing freely from the jagged, gaping cuts criss-crossing his whole body. The Snatcher continued to spasm violently as the deep, gurgling sounds of his lungs gasping for air filled the clearing, his body desperate for oxygen as he slowly bled to death.

Without pause, the distinct crackling of magic soaring through the air ensnared her senses. Quickly recognising the hex being thrown her way, she knew there wouldn't be time to form a strong enough shield.

_'Use your magic wisely.'_

It was the same voice again...

 _"_ _Erecto Muras!"_ She cried out, brandishing her wand with startling speed at the hard-packed earth before her. The ground rumbled as a large wall of rocks, soil and foliage formed in front of her.

A second later and she wouldn't have been quick enough.

The contents of Hermione's hastily erected wall blew apart in every direction as the remaining Snatcher's magic detonated against it. But the wall had served its purpose; the hex hadn't reached her.

Rising from the crouched position she had assumed due to the exploding debris, Hermione faced the Snatcher on shaky legs, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards into a challenging smirk as she met his furious glare.

"I'm going to take my time with you,” He growled out. "You'll be begging for me to kill you before I'm through."

Her stomach twisted with disgust. 

He had been oddly complacent whilst the other two Snatchers attacked her. It was obvious he had been waiting for her to tire. To stumble. To make a mistake...

He wanted her weak and scared before him.

But she would not bend. And she would not break. Raising her chin defiantly, her voice rang out clearly. "Not if I kill you first."

Flicking her wand at the leaves covering the ground, Hermione transfigured them into hundreds of small, leaf-shaped arrowheads. With another wave of her wand, the arrowheads rose into the air, hovering in front of her—their glistening, sharp edges reflecting ominously in the sunlight.

Appraising her actions, the snatcher snarled loudly as he slashed his wand through the air in response, forming a shimmering, yellow shield that stretched across the middle of the clearing.

_Nice try._

Her wand and hand moving simultaneously, she pushed forward with her magic, directing the arrowheads towards the Snatcher with a surge of power.

At the sight of the numerous projectiles hurtling towards him, the Snatcher stepped backwards instinctively. Knowing what would happen, Hermione watched expectantly as his expression morphed further with rage when the arrowheads simply pierced through his yellow shield, undeterred by his feeble attempt to stop them.

Raising his wand in desperation, the Snatcher slashed wildly through the air once more, halting most of the arrowheads with an awkwardly performed spell. His enraged cry at the sight of his shield's failure promptly turned to a cry of pain as the remaining, razor-sharp projectiles crashed into him.

Gasping sharply, the Snatcher clutched at his side, his feet stumbling as he tried to regain his balance.

He was hurt.

Hermione could see a trickle of blood beginning to form beneath his hand, though, surprisingly, despite the few shallow cuts elsewhere on his body, this seemed to be the only serious wound.

"You're going to regret that," He gasped out, raising his wand shakily towards her. _"Crucio!"_

_Shit!_

Her previous attack had drastically plundered her remaining energy, and it was almost impossible to shield yourself against the Cruciatis Curse. There was nothing she could do to defend herself. Left with no other choice, Hermione flung herself out of the way, flinching as the curse slammed into the tree behind her with a loud crack.

 _"_ _Crucio!"_

Rolling over just in time, Hermione covered her head as the curse impacted with the ground next to her, spewing clumps of dirt and rocks into the air. 

_"_ _Crucio!"_

She was too late.

Blinding pain erupted within her every nerve. Writhing on the forest floor, her hoarse screams echoed amongst the surrounding trees, drowning out the Snatcher's delighted laughter. 

As the curse lifted, her lungs shuddered against a deep, instinctive breath. Laying on her back, she blinked up through bleary eyes, her every muscle twitching from the remnants of pain. 

She I can't give up _…_ She needed to…

The sound of the Snatcher's advancing steps stilled her broken thoughts. Clenching her teeth, her fingers fumbled over the ground beside her, searching for her wand. Finally, her stiff fingers clasped around the hilt and she drew it close with a relieved sigh. Counting the Snatcher's footsteps, she tried to summon what little courage she had left, determined to keep fighting until the very end.

But it was no use. He had seen her reach for her wand.

" _Refreno!"_ His sickening voice bit out.

With a gasp, she rolled over and scrambled to her feet, barely avoiding the Snatcher's curse. She was shaky, and stiff, and slow and yet, somehow, she had managed.

She could still win this.   
  
She _had_ to.

"I hope you fight back this hard when I have you under me." He sneered, glancing at the lifeless body of the other Snatcher. "First, I'm going to teach you a little lesson."

Hermione swallowed hard, the motion catching painfully in her throat.

 _"_ _Sero!"_

 _“Emineo!“_ She cried out in response, aligning her wand against the incoming curse. 

The tip of her wand pierced through the dark magic, catching it momentarily. It crackled and fought against her hold, but she was simply too weak to maintain control.

With a strangled cry, she brought her hand down in a diagonal motion, attempting to deflect the curse away from her. Thankfully, the dark magic followed her movements and the deafening sound of rocks splitting apart soon filled the clearing.

Next to her, a deep crack zigzagged along the ground from where the curse had impacted against the forest floor with a blinding crack of red light.

But it hadn't been enough.

Gasping loudly, her leg suddenly crippled beneath her and she toppled forward: her hands shooting out to break the fall as body slapped against the ground. A loud scream tore from her lips as the shock of the impact rang through her shaking arms. Trembling uncontrollably, a stronger, burning pain began seeping through her.

It was slow at first, but the burning grew hotter by the second and the pain kept intensifying, casting all else from her mind.

Fire. It felt like fire. 

It felt like her leg was on fire. 

Looking down, a devastated sob wracked through her chest at the sight. The refracted curse had caught the edge of her upper leg, shamelessly slashing through the layers of skin and muscle in her thigh.

"Painful, isn't it?" The Snatcher kicked a rock in her direction, smirking when she flinched. "Your luck has run out, filth."

With her arms straining, and her fingers digging into the ground, Hermione tried to heave herself backwards as the Snatcher purposefully lifted his wand once more. From his expression, it was plain to see that not only was he going to kill her, he was going to do so much worse.

Summoning what little strength remained, her breath left her in a loud hiss as she hurled her body against the base of the nearest tree.

She wanted to escape. To apparate far away. But it had taken everything in her not to scream from the blinding pain the previous movement had caused her.

She was stuck.

Her terrified gaze locked on the Snatcher, her mouth parting on a sob as she recognised the intricate movement of the wand pointed towards her. Cowering in fright, she pulled her arms up over her head in a feeble effort to protect herself: bracing herself for the torture she knew would quickly follow.

This was it. 

She had come so far. She had lost all those she loved. She had hung onto the smallest hope for all this time... for naught, it seemed. 

_"CRUCIO!"_

A loud explosion of magic reverberated throughout the clearing. The very earth seemed to shake beneath her. But she felt… nothing.

The curse hadn't hit her. The curse had… exploded?

Warily, Hermione lowered her arms at the realisation. Blinking in confusion, she took in the sight of a thick, blue shield stretching out in front of her.

She knew this spell. It was complex—very complex.

There weren't many who were able to cast it effectively. She had only ever seen it performed once before.

Staring through the iridescent ripples of the shield's magic, she could see the outrage marring the Snatcher's face. But his malice was no longer directed towards her. His black, beady eyes were now focused on the opposite edge of the clearing.

With her heart pounding against her chest, her own gaze slid in the same direction. Hermione could only hope his sneer meant that whomever had arrived, had indeed come to help her. Just because they had shielded her from the torture curse, didn't necessarily mean they had less sinister plans for her. It wasn't unheard of for Snatcher's to fight each other over captives.

A prolonged pause ensued before a lone, hooded figure stepped into the clearing. At the sight of the figure's tailored black robes, relief flooded through her. 

This was no Snatcher.

However, her relief faded almost instantly as realisation dawned on her. Only Death Eaters wore those robes...

Wide-eyed, she watched as pale, long fingers slowly lowered the concealing hood.

Jerking backwards at the sight of the cold expression she knew so well, Hermione's features twisted in shock as Draco Malfoy's white-blonde hair and pointed features now gleamed faintly in the bright sunlight of the clearing.

An inexplicable feeling of unease and suspicion flitted across her awareness and she looked quickly to the tree-line. But there was no one else.

Draco had come alone.

"You have no right!" The Snatcher declared. "I caught her, she's mine!"

Ignoring the Snatcher, Draco stole a glance towards her, the concern she saw in his eyes disappearing as quickly as it appeared. If it weren't for the rigidity of his back and the tight line of his jaw, she would have thought him entirely uncaring.

It had been months since she had last seen him, but she could still see through the impassive mask he wore so well.

"You always were a good fighter, Gorfin." Draco said flatly. "Sadly, I cannot allow you to leave this forest alive."

"You would betray the Dark Lord?" The Snatcher stalked across the clearing, his thorn-shaped wand clutched tightly within his hand.

"You think the Dark Lord cares for the likes of _you_?"

"I'm talking about you protecting that bint." The Snatcher jabbed his finger towards Hermione. "I know she's with the Resistance."

"She's mine!" Draco seethed, closing the distance between him and the Snatcher with a single step. "I don't care about the fucking Resistance. They're losing." He grabbed the front of the Snatcher's cloak tightly within his fist. The even, dispassionate tone of his voice was more threatening than Hermione had ever heard it before. "And I'm going to kill you just for looking at her."

"Wh—"

Draco pressed the tip of his wand against the Snatcher's throat, cutting off his reply. 

It all happened so quickly—Hermione didn't even see the spell leave his wand—but Draco was suddenly pushing the Snatcher away from him with a rough shove: his grey eyes watching blankly as his victim stumbled backwards helplessly before falling to his knees, gulping around breaths that wouldn't form.

Although he made no sound, it was obvious he was choking.

To say that the Snatcher's death was unsightly, would be an understatement.

Hermione watched in horror as Gorfin's fingers clawed desperately at his own throat, scratching and gouging at his skin in an instinctive, desperate attempt to remove the Suffocation Spell. 

But that was not how magic worked. 

Keeling face first onto the ground, the Snatcher writhed and rolled over, his face turning a frightful shade of purple as his eyes bulged from their sockets. His chest heaved with short, frantic convulsions that seemed to subside over time as his lungs slowly gave up in their final plight.

At length, his body stopped twitching all together.

He was dead.

As if the confirmation of his death was what Draco had been waiting for, the blue shield dropped from in front of her, allowing her an uninterrupted view of the clearing once more.

Hermione stared in disbelief at the raw, gouged flesh of Gorfin’s throat. Blanching, her mind kept reeling as the full extent of the harrowing scene—two dead Snatchers lying on either side of the clearing—washed over her. 

Feeling her stomach drop as the adrenalin left her in panicked breaths, she met the hardened expression of Draco Malfoy—who was now walking directly towards her.

"Don’t come near me!" 

Draco halted at her words. Standing only a few feet away from her, she knew that he could see the full extent of her wounds.

"You want me to leave you here?" He asked in disbelief. "Like this?"

"I don't _want_ your help." She spat, her teeth clenching, muffling her scream as she tried to move again. She was determined to crawl out of this forest if she needed to. Once she found the weapon, of course.

"Wait—"

"Leave me!"

Gently pushing at the gash on her leg with a finger, she was forced to bite back another scream as a torrent of blood poured from the wound anew. 

It was worse than she had thought. 

With unsteady hands, Hermione ripped at the bottom of her shirt, tearing away a lengthy piece of material which she quickly fastened around her thigh—directly above the gash. Pulling the small, bloodied knot of the make-shift bandage tight, she slumped back against the tree, panting heavily as her injured leg jerked against the pressure. 

"I don't care about what you _want,_ " Draco said fiercely, moving towards her again.

"Don't you dare!" She shrieked. "You're not taking me away from this forest!" Her voice wavered as she became almost hysterical. Draco was now standing before her, glaring down at her with narrowed eyes, but she refused to look at him, utterly furious that he hadn't listened to her. "You don't know how important my mission is!"

"I know _exactly_ why you're here." The way he spoke gave her little reason to doubt him. "But that's none of my concern. Only you are."

"Please.” She looked sad, peering up at him through wet lashes as he stood over her. "Don't take me away. Not again."

Draco's blank expression dropped as soon as she looked up at him. Whatever he had seen in her eyes, causing him to falter. 

"Hermione..." Laced with anguish, her name came out as no more than a whisper. Raising his hand, his fingers reached out to sweep across her cheek.

Hermione balked.

"Relax, I'm not trying to force you to do anything,” He promised."You know that I wouldn't apparate you anywhere in your current state."

"I wouldn't put it past you."

Frowning slightly, he ignored her reaction as he moved one of the mattered curls stuck to her cheek, his fingers lingering as he gently tucked it behind her ear. 

"I can't apparate with you, but I do need to move you from this clearing,” he told her. As if to emphasise his point, he looked to the tree-line, searching for any signs of movement. "There are other Snatchers stationed nearby. I can't risk the chance that they didn't hear all the fighting."

Hermione groaned. "I can't— I can’t move."

"I'll levitate you,” He offered. "But I'll have to immobilise you, first."

"No!" She dared not let him immobilise her. If she had no control over her body, she might find herself being quickly apparated away, despite what he said.

"You'll be in pain if I don't." His hands moved to cup her face, and without pause, she lifted her own hands to grasp his wrists, ready to push him away if need be.

"I've dealt with worse."

"Then I'm going to have to carry you." His brow wrinkled as he observed the extent of the gash on her thigh. "It's going to be excruciating."

"Then this will just have to be the worst I've dealt with."

It took a moment before Draco agreed, though, she could tell he was still reluctant. "You're sure?" He pressed.

Hermione nodded stiffly as she tried to push back the onslaught of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Preparing herself for the pain she knew would come seemed to have the opposite effect on her resolve. Not only was she exhausted but she had been tortured, gravely wounded, and almost killed less than an hour before. 

"It's okay." His tone was soothing. "You can let go. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."  
  
Didn’t he realise that he already had?

"Even yourself?" She scoffed as Draco's expression became cold once more. "What—did you think that I would just _forget_?"

Her scathing remark had no effect on him. Ignoring her again, he studied the damage from the curse, grimacing at the sight of the blood still seeping from the vicious wound. 

“Dark magic,” he said quietly.   
  
Hermione nodded. 

"I'm going to have to silence you. I can’t focus on healing you until I know we’re at a safe distance from this clearing." Meeting her gaze once more, he added. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She hated the idea of being silenced. 

“Do you understand?” He pressed. 

"I understand."

Hermione stilled as Draco lifted his wand, willing herself to calm down, but her panic returned in full when his wrist began to move in the formation of an immobilising spell. _How dare he?  
_

Though, before she could protest, he immobilised her injured leg, effectively barring the torn muscles from contracting.  
  
“You would have said no,” he explained, garnering her reaction. 

“It’s fine,” she conceded with a huff, realising his motive. The isolated charm would save her from a lot of pain when he moved her. And she wouldn't have use of her injured leg, anyway...

Draco looked at her hesitantly. "I'm going to silence you now, okay?"

"Okay." Hermione's eyes flickered over the blood stained ground around her. It was necessary _,_ she reminded herself. "A weak one, please."

" _Silencio,_ " He murmured, his gaze never leaving her own as the charm took hold. "It's weak, and it will fade, but you need to make sure—"

He didn't finish his sentence.

Her brow furrowed at his words. She knew he probably hadn't wanted to scare her by saying so, but it was obvious he meant to recast the spell normally if the weakened one didn’t work. She doubted he would even ask for permission. 

Carefully, she attempted to speak, testing the efficiency of the charm. To her relief, no words formed.

Reassured, Draco gave a curt nod before leaning over her once more, his eyes searching her own for permission to continue. But Hermione could only frown in response, her strength still waning with every second. 

A moment went by, and then another, and then, suddenly, she was being hauled against Draco's chest, his one arm supporting her knees and his other behind her back.

Jerking violently, she threw her head back in a silent scream. The pain was like nothing she had ever felt before. The curse had almost severed straight through the bone, and traces of dark magic still clung to the wound, making it excessively worse. 

Draco had been right to place a silencing charm on her.

Hermione could only imagine the type of sounds that would be tumbling out of her right now as she pressed her face into his shoulder, smothering her silenced cries as her body continued to shudder uncontrollably.

Gently, he cradled her in his arms as he began to walk away from the clearing. To the benefit of her pride, Draco made no comment when tears started pouring freely from her eyes and her breath spluttered in short sobs against his neck. Clutching his cloak tightly within her hands, she pressed closer against him, relishing in the warmth of his body and listening to the soft thudding of his heart as he carried her. 

Releasing a shaky breath, she noticed that the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat was slowly lulling her distress, her own pulse quietening to match his own.

She felt... _safe_. 

At length, the effects of the silencing charm began to wear off, and Hermione wiped at her eyes, trying to collect herself. Staring up at Draco, she wondered how he had found her. 

So much had happened between them, and now...

With a sigh, she diverted her gaze to the black robes still clenched tightly within her hands.

This was who he was now. A Death Eater.

Hermione let go of his robes with a start. "I hate this cloak," she mumbled, feeling his shoulders tense beneath her cheek as she spoke.

"I know." There was a reluctant edge to his voice. "But it's only a cloak."

"I hate seeing you like this."

Draco gave no answer. They continued in silence for a short while before his pace began to slow noticeably. Wincing from the discomfort of being carried so awkwardly, Hermione shifted a little in his arms, craning her neck to get a better view.

They were approaching another clearing.

A huff of laughter escaped her, echoing around them softly before it died out. "You're being ridiculous."

"The ground will be softer," He stated, unperturbed. "You need to lie down."

"I need to find the weapon."

Draco merely tightened his hold on her, his expression unchanging when she hissed from the pain. She knew he had done it on purpose.

"Put me down!"

"I preferred you with the silencing charm."

"Put me down you insufferable, arrogant—arghhh!"

Hemione glared up at him from the ground. Panting loudly she tried to ignore the searing pain shooting through her leg once again. "You— you—can't—just dr-drop—me!"

"Do shut up." He sighed, walking away from her, his black cloak swirling behind him. "Your foolish pride is going to get the both of us caught."

"My pride?" She started but a single, exasperated look from him was all it took to quieten her.

Encircling the area where she sat, Draco held his wand tightly within his hand as he wordlessly cast protection wards, repelling wards, disillusionment charms and many other spells she could scarcely decipher. Admittedly, she was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on his movements as an unsettling dizziness began to distort her vision.

Soon, Draco's murmured enchantments faded entirely as the trees rustled and the wind swept over them in loud gusts, jostling the leaves around her. So weak. So tired. She felt as if she were blowing away, too.

With her head throbbing on her every intake of breath, Hermione began to sway slightly. Her head felt unnaturally heavy and her neck kept lolling forward against her will. Though, for a moment, trying to ignore the stinging pain of the dirt rubbing against her badly scraped palms, time seemed to slow down as she watched a droplet of sweat trail down her nose, accumulating at the tip, before falling to the ground in front of her.

As if in a trance, the same pull of gravity called to her trembling body. If only she could fall so easily. Without care. Without worry. 

No!She decided, clinging to the remaining scraps of her resolve despite her miserable thoughts _._ She couldn’t fall. Please—not yet.

Not yet...

Without warning, her stomach contracted in force and she hunched over on a wrenching gasp. "Mrrmph." The mangled sound escaped her as she fought to steady her rapid breathing. But it was futile, her body had long since given over to shock.

Recoiling in on herself, she began to gag loudly. Weak and still shaking, she was helpless to stop it as she lurched forward and retched.

_Agh!_

The bitter taste of bile clung to her throat as her empty stomach continued to heave in-between her every breath. Her stomach muscles continued to spasm and contract until she simply didn't have the energy to hold herself upright anymore.

_Everyone was dead..._

Delirious, her head hit the ground with a muffled thud.

_Harry, Ron, Ginny... Everyone..._

Her eyes fell closed on a sob.

_She had failed..._

Despite her previous fears of giving up control, she finally let go.

_“Hermione!”  
_

That voice...

_'Hermione!”  
_

There it was again...

_“Hermione!”_

It was the same voice that had been urging her on all day. The same voice that she had so longed to forget. If only she could answer; there was so much she wanted to say...

As her mind slipped away, the echoing sound of Draco Malfoy fearfully calling out her name was the last thing she heard before darkness consumed her at last.

.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I really hope you enjoyed this. I would love to know your thoughts. 
> 
> I was watching the fight scene between Dumbledore and Voldemort in ‘The Order of the Phoenix’ and really, really , really wanted to write a duelling scene. 
> 
> Nevertheless, there’s actually quite the back story between Draco/Hermione. And a lot of that will be revealed in the next chapter. Yay!
> 
> For now, and as always, 
> 
> Many kudos to you for giving my writing a chance. 
> 
> Marshmallow x


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